Conversations At Midnight
by phoenixstitch
Summary: Set around "Forever" Spike is turned human by the PTB to help Buffy in the future. Will be B/S in future parts.


Conversations At Midnight by Phoenixstitch   
Began 02/25/2001, restarted 07/23/2001 

This was something I started around "Crush", and "IWMTLY" when there were rumors going on that Spike might be human by the end of the season. He wasn't, but I decided to try, and finish this working around the existing story lines. So to that end this will be taking place during "Forever" while Angel is in Sunnydale for Joyce's funeral. Difference being that Spike doesn't know yet that Joyce has just died when the story begins and he becomes human unlike "Souled" which is set about the time of "Intervention", but without the Buffybot and the events with Glory and some time has passed since Joyce's death. In this Joyce's death is still raw and life changing for everyone. The PTB have decided that they need Spike human for the big battles ahead.   
(For those of you following my other stories this was started around the same time as "Souled To Be", and "Another Life, and Then Some" if you are wondering about similar themes. Which were inspired by reading some of Saber Shadowkitten's and Chelle's, and other 'Spike as human' stories though most of those were set in earlier seasons of Buffy while this is firmly set in 5th. This will be taking a very different track then my others.) 

Yes, this is a Buffy/Spike story. Angel is just visiting, and going away—far, far away. 

Rated R for strong language, and imagery. 

All the standard disclaimers to Joss, Mutant Enemy, and what ever Powers That Be rule the Buffy universe. 

If you want to archive this just give me a holler at vbmacky1@yahoo.com   
Part 1—The Visitors 

"Ohh god, Buffy, I want to drown in you…I want to feel inside of you…give it to me good baby," he moaned out loud in his sleep as he tossed, and turned, then bunched, and crushed the bed covers to himself imagining it was her in his lonely sheets he had trapped.. In his very vivid, surround sound and touch dream he had 'his' slayer exactly where he wanted her—in his bed, and his arms, and she was loving every moment of it—yeah, this was right, this was the way it was supposed to be…she wanted him, he knew she wanted him…and he wasn't ever going to let her go—ever. 

"Hey, blondie, wakey wakey!" a voice yelled at him followed by a hard kick to his feet sending Spike falling off his bed on to the hard floor getting him instantly awake, and all of his senses on alert. 

"What the bloody soddin' hell!" Spike yelled coming up angrily out of his dreams of him, and Buffy in bed together that he really wanted to get back to. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes to see his grandsire standing beside the bed along with a shorter guy with extremely bad taste in clothes, worse than even the soddin' kid, Xander, which Spike hadn't thought was possible. "Bloody hell, Angelus, what do you fuckin' want?" he groaned in disgust at his unwelcome visitors. He was not at all happy with this invasion of his privacy—he really had to think about putting a lock on his door since everyone just barged in uninvited. At least Buffy wasn't with them, he noted in relief. 

"Spike, we need to talk," Angel told him in no uncertain terms. His face dark, and unreadable. 

"Like hell. I have nothing I want to talk to you about so buzz off, and leave me the fuck alone," Spike growled at him sitting up, and reaching for his pack of cigarettes on the nightstand by the bed, and lighting one. 

"We do. It's about Buffy," Angel told him. 

"What about her? Nothing's bloody wrong is there with her?" he asked trying to stay calm, and keep the concern as well as the note of panic out of his voice at the mention of her name. He hoped it wasn't a Glory alert. Something hadn't happened to the Nibblet or Joyce? His mind began racing with all kinds of nasty possibilities. 

"Yes, and no. She just got through telling me about you, and your interest in her," Angel said angrily, his dark eyes boring down at the pale vampire getting to his feet and lighting a cigarette from his pack. 

He practically sighed in relief because it meant no one was in any eminent danger so far. "Ohh that. Well, that's my bloody problem not yours. She doesn't give a damn about me, and I'm bloody harmless, so what's your bloody problem?" Spike asked him truthfully, eyeing his sire, and trying to figure out who, and what the guy with him was there for. 

"You are. I'd like to pound you into a bloody pulp for the stunt you pulled with Buffy when Drusilla was here, and getting Buffy all upset, but Whistler here won't let me. It seems you're off limits. It seems you have been chosen by the Powers That Be for greater things," Angel told him, grumbling a little and casting an irritated glance at his smirking companion. 

'Okay, that name he had heard before from both Angel and Buffy. The small human looking demon was a major go between for the soddin' powers That Be. This was not good that he was here on his doorstep, so to speak. He only showed up for major changes, so this must be serious. "So you're that Whistler chap that the Slayer mentioned that told her what to do to stop Angel here from ending the world?" Spike questioned, wanting to make sure he had heard correctly about the demon. 

"Yeph, that's me. Figured that you wouldn't take Angel telling you the good news, and seeing he has some issues with you I thought I'd better come tell you myself," Whistler told him. 

"Tell me what? Now what the hell is happening to my undead life? I'm not going to get a bloody soul like him, are I? That'd be bloody priceless on top of this soddin' chip, really make my friggin' day. I've turned into a soddin' nancy boy enough as it is," Spike said glaring at Angel. 

"No, you're to keep helping Buffy against Glory, and protect the Key." 

"I'm doing that already, so what's the big deal?" 

"You have to give up your immortality, become mortal to do fight Glory," Whistler told him. 

"What? I don't have a bloody choice? I have to become a bleedin' mortal again? How is that going to bloody help? The Slayer needs strength, not a pathetic weakling by her side," Spike said, scared now at the prospect of losing the remaining reasons for his existence. 

"Even without vampiric strength you still have all your fighting skills." 

"So, that's supposed to make me feel good. But I'd be minus super strength, reflexes, healing abilities, hearing, sight, and be more easily hurt. I'm not seeing that much on the plus side here," Spike told them, glaring meaningful at the demon who wasn't put off in the least by Spike's temper fit.. 

"Okay I sweeten the deal, " he said, looking like he was listening to something before he continued. "On the plus side—you'd be able to walk in the sun, not turn into dust, and I'll throw in your usual super strength, reflexes, and some of the healing. No more liquid diets, you'll be one hundred percent human. The chip will also be gone," Whistler said, enjoying the vampire's shock as well as Angel's too. He hadn't heard about the bonus pack the demon was willing to give the blond vampire. 

Angel was about to speak, and ask what was going on, but Spike spoke first. "Okay, and what's the bloody catch? There has to be a catch. Why do these powers that be give a shit about a lowly vampire, especially about me in bloody particular. I'm nobody. Why aren't you offering this lovely package deal to the big poof here? Why me, not him?' Spike asked suspiciously looking back and forth between the two of them. 

"You are needed in the big fight down the line. Him--he's getting his own deal. He's got his own fight right now going in LA, that's why he can't help the slayer, but you can," Whistler explained, getting a glare from Angel who was liking this less and less. 

"Okay, but I'm not seeing any mention of a soul." Spike quipped, raising an eyebrow in question. 

"Don't gotta, you all ready got it, Slick, had it for quite a while," the demon told him with a grin. 

"What?? You're bloody putting me on. I don't have a bleedin' soul!" Spike protested angrily. 

"Sorry, but you do, Spike, my lad. Seems you got it back when you helped Buffy save the world from me. It started out as a small thing, but then it's been growing, taking over the demon part of you. Then when you got the chip, and you started learning not to bite, and kill, it just took over more, and more. The only difference is that you don't have all my guilt for your actions, but you do have conscience. Even though you've been trying to fight it, you still have been doing good rather than bad all these months," Angel smirked at him enjoying his discomfort. 

"It's your bloody fault you know—you're contagious—yeah, that's what you are," Spike growled at his grandsire pointing a finger at him. "I never thought about helping humans until I came here, and got around you, and the Slayer. Then you messed up things between me, and Dru. You have thoroughly messed up my life, and now you and your friend want to do it some more?" Spike questioned, shaking his head and lighting up another cigarette as well as looking around for the bottle of Jack Daniels he thought might have a drink, or two in it. Right now he needed a drink—bad. He still couldn't believe he had a soddin' soul—no wonder he was such a mess inside now. 

"Not my choice. It's theirs," Angel said grimly pointing upwards. "They think you're warrior material, not me." 

"Yeah, right, I'm bloody warrior material—they're off their nut, you know it? Is the Slayer going to know all this, or the Watcher? I'm sort of person-non-gradius to the whole bunch of Scoobies right now. Even the Nibblet isn't speaking to me," Spike told them. 

"No, just the three of us. You have to 'earn' their trust again. That's part of the deal too. Whether you let them in on your changes is up to you. But you make no mention of either of us being here, understood?" Whistler asked him. 

"Yeah, though I'm not sure why you want this all kept hush hush. But I'll go along with it. Okay, do your Mojo, or whatever. Let's get this over since I don't seem to have a bleedin' say any way," Spike said staring defiantly at both of them. Though inside he was actually jumping for joy at the idea of being human again, especially if he got to keep his strength, and abilities. 

"No, you don't," Whistler agreed with a wide grin. He came over, and placed his hand on Spike bare chest right over his unbeating heart. He began mumbling in a language neither vampire understood. The hand on Spike's chest began glowing brightly, spreading out until it encompassed the vampire's entire body in its rainbow glow. 

Trapped within the light, unable to move, Spike could feel his body begin to change back, become alive again. He wasn't sure how this miracle was being accomplished, but it was as he could feel blood running through his veins, his heart beating, his lungs taking on air, and breathing. Even his skin felt different to his awakened senses. He could feel hunger again, human hunger, not the blood lust he was used to as his stomach returned to normal. It seemed to take forever, but in reality it was only a short time before the transformation was complete. The light faded away and Spike slumped unconscious to the floor. Angel caught him before he could hit his head and sat him down in his worn arm chair. 

"So he's human now. Are we going to stay around until he wakes up?" Angel asked. 

"Nope, just let him sleep. He's going need it. You got the envelope?" Whistler asked him. 

"Yeah, ten thousand in cash to start him off, and a bank book. What's to say he won't blow it all on booze, and whatever right off the bat?" Angel asked the demon as he laid the envelope on Spike's bare stomach watching it rise and fall with his breathing. 

"That too, is one of his tests, Laddy. To see what he does with this new life that has been given him. The same as you will have choices too when you become human again. He's come a very long way all on his own in a very short time with no help, no guidance to speak of. His only guide while he was a vampire has been his heart, and a willingness to do the right thing when the chips were down for those he cares about. You may not like him being in Buffy's life, but he is helping her grow too, changing her as she changes him. You started her on her path, but he will be the one with her at the end. Because he fell in love with her he was willing to change, to be a better man than he had even been when he was living before. Not even you were able to do that with your soul. I know you are still having a hard time accepting this, but they are bound together in ways you only thought you were with her." 

"Damn right I am having a hard time with it. He's still a bastard, and I think the Powers fucked up this time. He's no hero, no warrior. He's all show, and big mouth. He'll never be what you think he is," Angel told him still unconvinced this was a good thing. 

"We will all see. And I think you have to go see Buffy. She's waiting for you not far from here," the demon reminded him cocking his head up at the taller one. 

"Yeah, I know I can feel her, and her pain. I still don't understand why Joyce had to die. It's so wrong and unfair for not only Buffy, but her sister, and everyone. Especially now with this Glory business," Angel said sadly worrying how Buffy was going to make it through this personal crisis. 

"It seems so now, but there are reasons. It was just something that had to be for larger events to happen. She's cool with it. She understands why now. She will always be around watching her girls. She is so proud of her daughter, and she even likes this one too. She's happy he did decide to stick around because she knows he'll help keep everyone safe. As to you, she's forgiven you, but that's all she'll say," Whistler relayed as if listening to an unspoken conversation. 

Angel could feel a presence briefly then it was gone as if it had almost been his imagination. "I'm going. You hanging here, or what?" he asked heading for the door. 

"I'm leaving. I came to do what I needed to. And you will do what you have to too. I got my own way back so I'm cool. Nice doing business with you, Angel. See you around," Whistler said, and it looked like a door in the fabric of reality opened and the badly dressed demon stepped through and was gone followed by the door. 

Angel shook his head, and took one last look at his grandchilde, watching the now human man's chest rise, and fall in sleep. "I hope you treat your gift of life better than I did, and you treat her good too. Goodbye, Lazaras," he told him as he opened the door, and stepped into the night to go find Buffy. 

End Part 1 

All disclaimers in Part 1 ** I am creating a background for Spike based on my impressions of William in "Fool For Love" and what glimpses I'm seeing of the man Spike was before he was turned, and even afterward from 2nd season onward into 6th even.** 

Part 2 

At day break Spike awoke abruptly from his deep sleep. and looked around dazed trying to remember how, and when he had fallen asleep in his chair. He had dreamed that Angel had come by with another demon called Whistler who represented the Powers That Be. They had given him this song, and dance that he was supposed to be this super warrior, and fight along side Buffy against Glory then later with her in some big battle. To do so he had to be human and the little badly dressed demon had used some sort of magick on him and he was now alive again. Yeah, right, he laughed at the absurdly of it, then noticed he was breathing, and he did have a heart beat. He got real quiet, and real scared as he took his shaking hand, and placed it against his now warm skin. He could feel the steady rhythms of his heartbeat underneath his fingers. He really was alive! 

"Holy shit!" he yelled out loud in shock. "I am a bloody human. They weren't pulling my bloody leg," he gasped shocked, his mind reeling from the implications of his transformation. "Calm down," he told himself, trying not to panic, or freak out more than he was at that moment. He saw his cigarettes, and lighter across the room on the stone sarcophagus. He wanted one badly, but he wasn't sure whether he could get, and walk over to get them. 

Where he was at inside a tomb in a cemetery was starting to creep into his awareness as well. He couldn't stay here, not like he had been. "Now what the bloody hell am I going to do? I had a nice set up here rent free, no bloody neighbors most of the time. How the bleedin' hell am I going to live, you bloody bastards?' he said cursing the Powers, because with being human that meant he'd have to live somewhere besides the crypt. 

He finally noticed the thick brown envelope in his lab as he tried to stand up. "What's this?" he asked in curiosity as he torn it open to see a thick bundle of hundred dollar bills, a note, Ids, some official looking documents and some keys. 

William, 

Here's some money to get you started in your new life as you will be needing a place to stay, and food, etc., until you get a job, or are self supporting again. There is more too in the bank book too. Whistler had me set up an account in your name. You will also find ID's, a social security card, green card, birth certificate, every thing you might need to establish a human presence and identity. There is also a resume with references if you need that too for housing, or job purposes with real people who will swear that you know them. I hope you don't mind that I have used your real last name, and personal information as much as I could. Since this all came up rather quickly, I did not have time to invent a new identity for you. 

The keys go to the mansion on Crawford Street. I know that is not one of your favorite places because what happened there, and I know that no apologies will ever make the situation between us better. But it is somewhere to stay until you can get on your feet, and find your own place. The mansion is all in your name now, and everything is up to date. I went ahead, and made sure that all the utilities, and power were turned on. I also stocked the kitchen, and the rest of house with your new human status in mind. I had several days warning on this, in case you are wondering how this was accomplished so quickly. All you have to do is move in. 

Please use this gift you have been given wisely. You have been bestrode a great honor. I envy you and your new life. Your job is to continue to protect Buffy, and her sister and help them through this time of grief with Joyce's passing. Whether, or not you let anyone know of your changes is up to you. Be well my childe, and I wish you all the best. 

Your loving grandsire, 

Angel 

Spike read and re-read the note from Angel several times before it all sunk in. Especially the part about Joyce. No one had told him she had died. Though he hadn't been hanging outside like he usually did because of the uninvite spell. What was the point? She had died? How? He wondered. Had it been Glory or something else? She had seem so much better a week, or so ago when he had last been in the house. She was looking all normal, laughing at his jokes, kidding around with Dawn, fixing him a cup of cocoa with lots, and lots of marshmellows. It wasn't fair to let her die. Why her? She had been a good woman. One of the best humans he had ever known. The Slayer, and her sis had to be going through bloody hell now. But he wasn't sure what to do, what he could do. He wasn't sure whether he should intrude upon her, or any of them at this time, though part of him wanted to go comfort her, be there for her, he knew she wouldn't accept his presence, newly human, or not. 

He wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn't come. It seemed very unfair that he was granted life when this wonderful woman who was still needed by both her daughters, and even by him was dead. It wasn't bloody fair at all. Especially when they had all thought that everything was okay and it was clear sailing for her. If it was that hell bitch that did this to her then the bitch would pay and pay dearly. He considered Joyce very much a part of his family, and no one messed with any of his. He'd find out whether Joyce's death was unnatural, or not, and then do something about it because he knew the slayer wasn't going to be any shape to handle anything for awhile. He had already made up his mind to take over her patrols until she was okay again—if she could ever be okay again. 

He didn't think any of her group would be in any better shape either. Joyce had been 'mom' to all of them, more than any of their real parents. He knew that from just listening to their conversations, and from the lack of mentions of their parents hardly at all over the years. The whelp he could understand. He had heard his parents fighting all the time while he had stayed there and had the misfortune to run into Xander's mom who had tried to seduce him when she came down to do laundry or so she had said. Luckily, it had been sundown and he was able to get away from her before anything happened. After that he had felt sorry for the boy. And Red's parents were never around or too caught up in themselves to even notice what she was up to. It wasn't any wonder that the two had bonded to the slayer, and her world. What else did they have going—not much. He knew that the Watcher and Buffy's mom had become needed, stable influences for all the kids, and if he allowed himself to admit it for himself as well. 

His own Mum had died ten years after he was turned, and he still missed her, along with his sisters. They all were long gone, but the girls had married well, had children of their own, and there were numerous descendants now, so at least his blood family was still going on. He had never had the chance to father offspring, and outside of some distant cousins there was no one caring on the family name. That had never really bothered him until this moment. Strange how being alive suddenly was changing his perspectives on everything he had been used to, and accepted as being non important. He couldn't even claim being of the order of Aurelus now, not really, though he could still faintly feel his connection to Angel in LA like he always did. In some ways he was sadden at the loss of his undead family, and his connectiveness to them. Yeah, it was going to take a while to sort this out of where, and with who he did fit in with now. Now he was just a family of one since he didn't want to interfere in his blood relatives lives, not could he no longer claim the vampire line either. But then he had been feeling this loss, this confusion for several years, even pre-chip as to where and to whom he belonged. 

Losing Joyce now brought home how fragile, and short real life was, and how important family was. Later today he would pay his respects to her. He wished someone had at least told him she had died. Probably thought he didn't care since he was a vampire. An with everything going on why would they have cared if he knew anyway. Why—because he had been family, a friend to her in a odd way, and someone should have a least bloody well told him. Bloody wankers! He told himself as the tears did finally fall, and he cried at last, letting lose all his pain and sorrow that her loss meant to him. 

He must have cried himself to sleep as found himself coming awake several hours later feeling the need to use his new restored plumbing, and feeling the beginning of pangs of hunger, and thirst too. With a deep sigh he got up from his worn green chair, and eyed the stray sunbeams coming in through the window of his crypt. Even though he could feel his heartbeat, and the differences in his body already, he was still dubious that all of this was for real. Cautiously, Spike approached the rays of light that stopped just short of his table, and chair by his television and stuck his arm into it waiting for either smoke or flames to appear within seconds. Nothing happened. He watched in amazement as the minutes ticked by, and nothing happened except that he could feel the sun's warmth on his bare flesh. It was making it warm—not bursting in flames. It was hard to put aside a hundred plus years of inborn reflexes and reactions, but he stepped fully into the light coming in through the dirty window amazed that it was safe for him to be in the sun once again. He laughed in pure happiness and joy at the sheer miracle of it all. 

Looking upward, he said out loud to whatever entities might be listening as he figured somewhere, something was watching him, "I don't know why you picked, me I really don't bloody care, mates, but thanks… I mean it. And I will try to put this gift you've given me to good use—I promise. If you say I'm supposed to be fighting on the side of good—I'll bloody do it—I have been any way, now I don't have any excuse to go back to being evil and lets face it I was pretty pathetic being that in recent years ever since I got involved with the Slayer and her group. Just give me some time to sort this all out—this being human again, and it would be real nice if every once in awhile you gave me clues as to what I'm supposed to do. But then most of the wankers walking around out there don't have a clue, so why should I be any bloody different? Anyway, I'm going to shut up now, and get on with this life you've given me. Thanks, and I'll try not to disappoint you," Spike said humbly, bowing his head for a moment to give thanks. 

"Now, to get on with living. What first? Food, moving? What?" he asked himself, going through the big envelope, and taking out some money, then putting the rest into the deep inside pocket of his duster. 

The mansion keys went into his pocket, and he picked up his smokes, and started to light one then decided against it. Now it did matter if he smoked. And he had gotten a brand new, hopefully healthy body and he wasn't going to keep up with the old habits. He eyed the half empty bottle of Jack Daniels on the floor next to his booted foot, and decided that was off the list too for a while. He hadn't been able to drink that that well as a demon, and he remembered all that when he had been human before had been worse. Nope, no more booze, fags, or nasty habits. He had to do all of this right and live up to the faith he had been given in getting this unexpected chance to live again. 

"Food first, then I'll get some boxes, come back, and pack up this mess. Shouldn't take that soddin' long," he said putting his duster on and then opened the door carefully. 

Cautiously, he stepped outside and stood there a couple of minutes in the bright sunlight to see if this really was happening, and he wasn't going to burst into flames because of some sort of delayed reaction. When nothing happened, he smiled, and closed the door to the crypt amazed at how free he suddenly felt. He sort of skipped, danced along the well worn path to the outer gates of the cemetery. Singing 'it's a beautiful day in the neighborhood' at the top of his new lungs as he went. Unfortunately, that caused a few heads to turn, and glare at him as he passed a funeral in progress, so he sort of toned it down. Then remembered that Joyce was now buried in this self same place and how the Scoobies would have reacted to him doing something similar. 

When he was finally out of the place where he had made his home for the last year, he smiled again and headed for downtown and a little diner he knew that had fairly decent food. He had eaten there a few times when the pig's blood wasn't cutting it and he wasn't in the mood for the Bronze or Willie's. The owner was a decent enough sort of chap and never picked up or didn't care that he was a vampire. He treated him like a regular guy and they'd talk politics and the world situation along with some of the other regulars. 

He did have a social life contrary to any of the Scoobies knowing about it. Helped to keep up on what was happening around town. People did know him in town, but he had shied away from really being friends with anyone because of what he was. Now, there weren't any limitations on his movements or what he could do. And that felt very weird all of a sudden. To be this free, it was mind blowing, and made him appreciate the gift he had gotten even more. 

He entered the old fashioned fifties style diner, and Earl looked up surprised to see him this early in the day, and in daylight too. The older man's eyebrows raised a little, but then he recovered and greeted Spike as he had always done. "Hi, Will, I think your usual table is free back there." 

"Thanks, Earl, appreciate it," Spike acknowledged as he headed for his spot near the back where he could look out and watch the people go by like he usually did. 

Earl came over with a cup of coffee and a menu, trying not to be too shocked by Spike being out this early in the day. "Didn't expect to see you until evening, if then. Everything okay?" he inquired cautiously as Spike took the menu. 

"Everything is fantastic. I feel like a new man. Got a whole new lease on life," he smiled, meaning every word. "Give me the number five special, and make the eggs sunny side up, and the bacon crisp." 

"Gothca," Earl said surprised since he knew that Spike was a vampire after all. He took the order, and went back to the window to give it to the cook, still puzzling over how the guy could be sitting in bright sunlight and not be a pile of ashes. In one way that made him very nervous because he did know about the nightlife of Sunnydale all too well. Finally curiosity got the best of him, and he had to find out so he went back to ask Spike. "Okay, Will, I know it's none of my business, but how can you be sitting there, and not burning up? You got some sort of spell going on?" 

Spike looked up at him and laughed. "So you bloody knew all along. I like that that you didn't get all stakey all this time I've been coming in. I appreciate that. You're good people, Earl. Nope, it was a spell, but it's bleeding permanent. Seems someone likes me up there, and they went, and made me one hundred percent human. I'm not what I was anymore—honest," Spike said letting his news sink in. 

"For real? This isn't some sort of joke?" 

"No joke. I'm just a plain old human like the lot of you. When I said I had a new lease on life, I meant it. So you knew all this time I wasn't what I appeared to be?" Spike asked amused. 

"Yeah, kind of hard to miss with the skin and eyes. Then you never ate that much either. But you didn't cause any problems, and helped me bounce some trouble makers out of here so I figured what the hell. So you are back among the living—that's great—if that's what you wanted?" 

"Believe it or not—yeah. I've been tooling around for over a hundred plus years, and it wasn't all fun. Then there's this gal I'm in love with that being the way I was I never had a chance in hell with. Now, I may not have any luck still, but at least she can't turn me down for being a vamp like I was," Spike told him, his eyes sad, thinking even as a human he probably didn't have a soddin' chance with the Slayer. 

"Thought it was a girl all these months you've been coming in, Will. You had the look, and then they were a few conversations we had. She must be something really special," Earl smiled. 

"That she is. More than anyone could ever guess. I'm not sure how I'm going to spring this on her. Now's not a very good time. Her Mum just died a couple of days ago. Then there's all her friends. They're like super protective of her. Thought I give it a bit before I said anything, and get myself straightened out first. I'll just keep out of her hair until the time's right, I guess." 

"That sounds like a plan. Anyway, your order's up, be back in a flash." Earl told him heading back towards the serving window. He was back a minute later setting all Spike's food down in front of the former vampire. "Eat up. If you want anything else let me know," he added, and then let Spike alone to eat. 

Before Spike had played at eating, this time he was serious about it. Things did taste better he noted, because could actually taste, and appreciate the food more than he had. After his meal he did have a cigarette and found that he really didn't like them after all after he started coughing from inhaling it, and stubbed it out in the ashtray. He paid for his meal and left, telling Earl that he'd be back later. 

It was still early afternoon when Spike made it back to his crypt, and got his belongings packed up. A couple of trips later he had everything that he owned piled into the DeSoto, and was heading for the old mansion. As he pulled up in front of it, he looked at it, and gave an involuntary shiver because of the memories associated with it. He didn't think he could handle living here long term. He knew Buffy wouldn't want to set foot in here either unless she had to for similar reason. As soon as did get himself straightened out with a job or whatever he was going to sell this place and find somewhere else to live. Maybe the good looking Victorian two story job over on Dunoff that he had noticed being up for sale. It was closer to Buffy's and the Magic Box than this place was. But Angelus had always gone for the mansions, and pretentious looking places like he was royalty, or something. He always liked things low keyed, and inconspicuous because he had to keep an eye on Dru most of the time, and didn't want a neon sign saying vampires here to the rest of the world. 

It looked like Angelus had kept the place up despite him being in LA. He was also surprised as opened the door to find that he didn't have house guests too. If there had been any Angel must have gotten rid of them while he had fixed the place up for him. Everything was as he had told him in the letter: food and booze in the kitchen, all the utilities working, including a phone and a cell phone placed next to it for his use. The upstairs bedrooms were all furnished with fresh linens and bedding as were the bathrooms with almost anything he could have needed. Angel had also bought him new stylish clothes too. He even found a computer in the study along with a wide selections of books on all subjects that made him raise his dark eyebrows in surprise after he got a look at some of the titles. It was even better than Rupert's home library had been. Part of his was insulted that Angel had done so much, but the other part was sort of touched that his grandsire had wanted to do this to maybe pay back for all the hard times he had given him since he had been turned. 

He did note with relief that the statue of Arcadia was gone. He just hoped that whoever had removed it had put the damned thing in a safe place where no one could get to it. He saw new modern furniture everywhere taking away the stark barrenness that the place had had when he was living here. In the old living room was a wide screen television, a collection of various DVD's, and a Playstation II set up to it with a rack of games. That just blew him away more than anything else he had seen because he just wasn't used to Angelus being so damn generous. The only thing missing was people to share all this bounty with. 

Spike motivated himself to get his things out of the car and into the house and take them up to his old room. Even though the master bedroom was set up for him, in his head it was still Angelus'. By the time he was finished it was evening and he was getting hungry again. Deciding he really wasn't into cooking, he found a frozen dinner and popped it into the microwave to warm up and got a beer out to wash it down. Once his food was done he took it back to the, study and fired up the computer finding instructions, and the passwords to get him on to the Internet. 

What Buffy and her friends didn't realize was that he was as good on better on the computer than Willow was. He had taught himself early on how to use the thing and kept up. Having to stay in during the day gave him a lot of time on his hands. He could probably hack into places better than some of the pros out there when he wanted to. He pulled out the envelope that Angel had left with all his new ideas and background and began running over it seeing what he could do with the identity that had been created for him. 

Angel had sent it up that he now was an American citizen. His new papers stated that after he had completed his studies in England he had moved to the states, and became a citizen two years ago. He had given him a professorship from Oxford. Along with museum credits, and field work in digs across the world. Which really wasn't that far from the truth as he had been well on his way to having all that when fate had intervened. Though it had been over a hundred years since he had taught anyone. He'd have to brush up on his teaching skills, but it was do-able he thought. It was either go back to teaching, try running a bookstore, or think about playing private detective, or maybe becoming hired gun. None of the latter options really appealed to him. His now mortal life was going to be dangerous enough just helping Buffy since he wasn't completely invulnerable like he had been. He could die from serious injuries now. 

He hacked in to UCA—Sunnydale's computer system began to create his new teaching persona and identity. He set up all his teaching references, and credentials. Set up an interviews with the heads of the English Department along with Liberal Studies, and History. Due to unexpected vacancies due to vampires in both the English and History departments recently he was going to be able to come in almost immediately to take over the classes that were now being shuffled amongst departmental substitutes. This would also help him get back into the swing of teaching again. For his future teaching plans he created syllabuses for several classes, put those classes into the program book for the next year's Fall semester. He would be teaching English Poets of the 18th through 20th Century, an Introduction to Classical Literature, The World of Victorian England, Archeological Discoveries Through the Ages, and one on Literature, Mythology, and Magic. All of which he was very familiar with the subject matter after making sure his classes wouldn't overlap any similar classes being currently offered. The task took him until two in the morning to complete, but when it was finished it was rock solid. 

In the morning he would follow up the paper trail he had created with personal phone calls to verify his interviews. He loved the new electronic age. This was a lot easier than meticulously trying to forge papers like he had had to do in the old days traveling across the world with Angelus and Dru. Sitting back after he had finished his task he found that he was exhausted and yawning. Shutting his machine down, he made his way upstairs, and collasped into his bed, not even bothering to take his clothes off. Within minutes he was asleep and dreaming of his new life that he hoped somehow would have Buffy in it. 

End Part 2 

TBC 

NEXT 


End file.
